


Occam's Razor

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comfort, Crushes, F/M, Pre-Relationship, SHIDGE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 20:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: When you cut away all of the extra, overlapping facets, all you’re left with is the truest self.Or, Shiro gives Pidge a hand with a deceptively difficult task.





	Occam's Razor

**Author's Note:**

> My third and final piece for the [Aphelion Zine](https://aphelionzine.tumblr.com/)! I was very happy to step in and write for this ship. I solidly believe that there would be some very good facets to them, and that they'd spend a lot of time uncovering them before they ever even considered making it a Thing [tm]. Hope you enjoy!

Pidge stared grumpily at her reflection, cross-legged on the floor, as she normally preferred. Instead of using a mirror, she was staring into the screen of her computer. It wasn't even on, slipped into sleep mode while her hands lay idle in her lap. All she could look at was her unhappy face giving the sour look back at her as if it too was judging her. It wasn't the sleep deprivation made visible in the dark circles under her eyes. It wasn't even the way she sat in her nightshirt with it dipping off of one shoulder carelessly. She was looking at her hair.

While Pidge had consciously lost track of how long they'd been out in space, her ticker was constantly keeping tabs in the background. She would check it occasionally, but not often. The more she became aware of how much time had passed, the more angry she ended up over not finding her family. But now there was no denying that a significant amount of time had passed because her hair reached her shoulders now, as unruly as it had always been. An Altean dagger lay nearby; Allura had given it to her right before an infiltration mission, and Pidge had kept it close to hand ever since. She never used it before, never really intended to unless it was an emergency, but sometimes she would hold it, make sure she knew the grip of it. She'd held it more times in the past few quintants than she had since it had been given to her. Though she'd tried to believe she was resolute on what she needed to do, she hesitated and put it aside every time. Now her bangs fell too far over her eyes, they were a constant distraction. And the disorganized mess of it that fell to her shoulders was always moving, like a ghost out of the corner of her eye. It really needed to go.

But she couldn't.

"Pidge?"

She startled, reaching out to bring her screen back to life. Her reflection washed away in lines of code in that Altean blue-green she'd become so accustomed to. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Shiro standing in the doorway to her lab, and she wondered how long he'd been standing there before he said something. His brow was knotted in such a way that he definitely suspected something, which told her he'd already seen too much. She cleared her throat and got up, putting her glasses back on.

"What's up, Shiro?"

"Why don't you tell me?" he asked her gently.

"Beeeeecause there's nothing up? Dozing off in front of the computer doesn't really turn up any exciting leads." Suddenly keenly aware of her unkempt appearance, she tugged the collar of her nightshirt back up.

Shiro looked considering, as if he didn't want to say something. It would be horribly hypocritical of him if he called her out on lying about her state of mind. "You weren't actually sleeping." But he did it anyway. 

“Well, you’re not sleeping, either,” she countered petulantly. Neither of them were really going to get anywhere this way. “Did you need something?”

He shook his head. “Making some rounds. It’s quiet tonight, but I got a feeling to come here. I can go if you want.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Pidge was still getting used to the idea that they were starting to sense one another and the Lions. It was just like that first round of training where she knew they were there, at the back of her mind, but without wearing the helmets. It still made her intensely protective about thoughts of her family and her real mission out here, but she was less bothered about Shiro knowing than the others. They had a shared mission in finding the two missing Holts, along with saving the universe. Both were pretty daunting at times. “Find a seat where there’s space.”

Shiro looked like he was going to protest, but when he looked to the hangar door, something about his expression said he was reluctant to leave. Whether it was because she was probably the only living soul awake at this hour or because he still thought she needed his company, Pidge wasn't sure. He sat down cross-legged on an open spot of the floor near her computer. She fumbled around in one of the nearby containers for some of the space juice she continually pilfered from the kitchen for late nights like this. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his gaze drifting over to the dagger near her laptop. One brow quirked, and somehow she knew he wasn’t going to say anything. So she did it instead.

“It’s not what it looks like.” 

Shiro jerked his head up, startled and a little sheepish, as if he thought he shouldn’t have been snooping. Which was silly when she left a weapon in plain sight. It was her fault, not his. “I didn’t really think—”

“Maybe not,” she was quick to reply. “But just in case you were worried.” Pidge reached out, offering the juice to him before sitting back down in her spot. Her computer had gone to sleep again, and she once more caught her reflection in the darkened screen. Her sigh came out more like a huff, and she looked away. 

They sat in silence for several minutes, only the sound of their straws and the hum of machinery filling the space. Shiro made that obnoxious sound with his straw, the one that said he’d shamelessly chugged his juice. It made the corners of her mouth twitch upward. 

“Is it your hair?”

The smile went away instantly, and she blinked. She didn’t try to lie about it this time. “What makes you think that?” 

Instead of answering her directly, he set the empty carton aside and folded his hands in his lap. Pidge couldn’t help thinking he looked sad then, unsure. It wasn’t how she was used to seeing Shiro, and she found herself paying close attention. 

“I don’t remember much about my time with the Galra, even now. I get bits and flashes. I know that my hair grew out while they had me in prison. I had a five o’clock shadow that was more like an eleven o’clock one. I don’t think they put me in the arena right away. But nearly every other memory I have is...like this.” Shiro lifted his hand and ran it through the forelocks of his hair. “I dunno how, I don’t remember being shaved or cut, but anytime I went out there this way, I felt more like…  _ me _ . When I woke up at the shack with Keith, before I could remember any of it, I asked him if he’d done it. He said no. I think… I think we were both a little weirded out by it.” 

Pidge had to make herself breathe. It was too tempting to hold her breath while he relived this. He so rarely talked about his time with the Galra, unless it was vital to a mission or battle. It hurt, but she didn’t want to make him regret his decision to talk to her about it. 

As if he realized how heavy the air had gotten, Shiro let out a shaky laugh, something about the way he rolled his shoulders making it seem like he was shaking off a feeling he didn’t want on his skin. “What I’m trying to say is that whatever the reason they had for doing it, well, they made it easier for me to fight. For me to believe I still had something that was mine worth fighting for. Even if it was just this stupid undercut.” He rubbed his chin. “If that’s what the knife is for, I get it.” 

Pidge stared at him, at his dumb little smile that made her heart race sometimes. And she gave in. He deserved it. Her shoulders fell and she fumbled to keep her collar in place before it slipped again. “It’s weird sometimes. Being Katie Holt feels like a completely different life. Like she’s someone I was really close to, but after everything that’s happened, I don’t really know if Katie belongs out here, fighting this fight and trying to find Dad and Matt. It’s not like Pidge Gunderson is any more me than being Katie, and I really liked having long hair and wearing pretty dresses…” She bit her lip, thinking that none of this made much sense to her, so how could it possibly sound any less crazy to Shiro. When she looked at him though, his gaze was so intent on her that maybe it did, maybe he understood more than she ever would have thought. “But Pidge is the one who snuck in right under Iverson’s nose. Pidge made the choice to go into those caves and get on board a flying blue lion with everyone else. Pidge pilots Green, and at the end of the day, Pidge is  _ me _ , so…”

“I feel like I left Takashi Shirogane back on earth,” Shiro mused, his expression rueful. “You’re stuck with Shiro. Whatever’s left of me, I’m trying to hold onto with all I have, but there’s no doubt all of this has changed me. Changed  _ us _ .”

“Yeah.” He really did get it.

They fell quiet again.

“Would you like me to do it for you?”

Pidge’s eyes widened. “You mean…”

“I can cut it for you. Can’t promise it’ll be great, but it’ll be shorter again.” 

Her heart seized up, and she felt very selfish about the offer, even though he’d been the one to make it. She almost said no. 

“Please,” got out of her mouth quicker.

That smile again. Good god, she loved it. Heat crept up into her cheeks, and she put her back to him quickly, reaching for the dagger. She held it it over her shoulder to him and felt the flurry of butterflies in her stomach when he gently took it from her. Moments later, he was much closer, his warmth at her back when he settled behind her. She fumbled for the hem of her nightshirt, worrying it between her fingers. Pidge wondered if he could hear how she was breathing, if Shiro knew she was blushing. She squeezed her eyes shut when he started to comb his fingers through her hair. It felt so nice that for just a moment, she was tempted to tell him not to go through with it. But something told her they both needed this, and if she let him walk away from it now, there’d be an unfinished feel to it. Regret. There was no room for that out in space. 

He kept at it for a little bit, smoothing it all out. It tickled her shoulders, and she tried to suppress the shivers racing down her spine. She told herself she was an idiot, but it was far too late to stop this— not her hair, not anything she’d already felt about Shiro. No regrets. 

Shiro pulled away, and Pidge bit her lip again. She heard the knife leave its sheath, and it made a soft singing noise, as if it were living metal. Given what she’d seen in the last several months, she wouldn’t have been very surprised if it was alive. 

“Hold still, Pidge.”

“Okay.”

She froze, kept her eyes tightly closed, gripping her shirt in white-knuckle fists. She was hyper focused on this, on every movement he made behind her. She wanted to make sure she didn’t forget this for a long time. Pidge held still and she listened, greeted with the familiar sound of sharp metal against her hair. She mused at how distinct a noise it was, how the dagger pulled at her scalp just so even though it was obvious Shiro was being as careful as possible. Fortunately for them, the knife was incredibly sharp, and he moved from one side to the next with all of his attention. Little by little, she could feel the breeze from the air vents on her skin. She couldn’t stop one of the shivers, and he stopped.

“You all right?” Shiro’s voice was a whisper. 

Pidge forced her voice not to shake. “Keep going.”

He complied. The last of it was the way he swept her bangs away from her face and carefully trimmed them. Her hair fell against her forehead, much higher up on her brow. It was a relief. Her hair didn’t weigh much, but it felt like a burden had been taken off her. She felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She didn’t like having this much emotion right at the front of her mind; it always seemed to get in the way of what she should really be thinking about. But she couldn’t think about anything else but Shiro right now, the way he’d handled her so carefully but steady enough to do what she couldn’t. That… said everything about him, really. No way to stop now, no regrets. 

“All done.” 

Shiro’s words slammed into her, a quiet ton of bricks. Pidge whirled and threw herself against him, like the time she’d learned about how he protected Matt. She knew him even better now, knew more than just the legend that had gone ‘round the dinner table before the Kerberos mission. Her arms barely fit around him, but she held on tight, and her world fell into a sense of  _ right  _ when he returned her embrace. She never wanted to let go. Shiro ran a hand through her hair again, and she nuzzled into his chest. 

“Thank you, Shiro.” 

He bowed to kiss the top of her head. “You’re welcome, Pidge. Anytime you need this, I’m here.”

Pidge didn’t dare ask if he meant her hair or the way he was holding her. If she had her way, it would be both. She needed this, wanted it. “Stay?” 

Shiro didn’t ask for how long or why. For that, Pidge was grateful. He drew her even closer, until she was practically into his lap, and she tucked her head under his chin. Whoever they were out here in the black, the thing she would take away from this is that neither of them were alone. She vowed to herself that if he ever needed her to return the favor, make him feel right again, she would do it without hesitation. 


End file.
